Owned by: Zylia Tourny-Mantin

Dennis Mantin

Owned by: Robert Jack

Owned by: Steven and Lisa Morrison

I have a rule at home that goes something like this. I don’t care what you tell them out there in the world, but here at home; you tell me the truth.

If I find out that I’ve been lied to, then I usually react in a frothy emotional outburst.

I have noticed that my reactions have neither slowed down the rate of the lies or changed anything.

Therefore, I am beginning to believe that truth is a myth we tell ourselves. Clearly, I don’t know the answers for certain. However, since I used to be physically beaten as a child in an attempt to stop me from not telling the truth; I see this development as steps in the right direction.

Hence, the frothy emotional outbursts have ceased…

In my city, it looks like arrogance and self centeredness. However, upon closer inspection, fully grown adults appear as if this might be their first day on the planet!

Could this be the answer? Aliens?

A dory is a small row boat used by fishermen.
I knew we were in trouble when I couldn’t get Dexter to sit down as he tried to untangle the net, rocking the dory; taking on river water.
My warning,
“We’re going to sink if you don’t sit down . ”
This seemed to fall on deaf ears.
I remembered Harold’s wise words.
“If you think you’re going under, remove your rubber boots, or you will drown.”
I was sitting in my socks in the middle of the river, bailing water with a rubber boot as the dory disappeared beneath me. We had reached the tipping point.
The Atlantic Ocean water is cold in late October and adds weight to sweaters made of wool.
I heard Dexter splashing. However, my main focus early on was to not get tangled up in the net. When I was sure I was clear, I was dog tired and decided to allow my body time to recover for another push to shore. This required holding my breath and allowing myself to sink to the bottom Deception River.
It was here in the estuary with approximately 10 feet of the Atlantic Ocean over my head that I realized that it had been perhaps decades since I had prayed and this might be an opportune time to return to the practice. The prayer went something like this.
“Dear God… If you get me out of this; I will never drink again. ”
I pushed off the river bottom and swam towards shore in the darkness. I remembered Persy’s warnings,
“Don’t panic… to panic is death.”
I sank, stayed calm and reached dry land .
Dexter yelled from the opposite shore.
I sat for a moment cold and grateful to be alive and thought to myself… If I don’t get out of here, I’m going to die.

Dennis Mantin

While I was making peace with the Cockroaches in my Hotel Room, I was making love with another tenant, who was a lovely native Indian woman from Vancouver Island.

I found a job working at a car wash and marveled at how much smoother the paint was on higher end cars like Rolls Royces or Jaquaurs.

Then I got an evening job in the kitchen at the ‘Town Pump’, a venue for great live music and average food.

Then I got a midnight to 8a.m. job at Hambrger Mary’s, a 24 hour fast food joint that catered Hookers, Transvestites and a very colorful yet dangerous brand of streetlife.

I was working my way out Vancouver. I gave up the Welfare cheques. I gave up the car wash in the cold and wet, slept during the day and worked from 4p.m. until 8a.m.

Bill Kennedy the Hustler could not grasp why I worked so much. In this world of Skid Row; an honest God Fearing, hard working individual like myself was seen as peculiar, I think.

Bill suggested I take a look in the welfare office… He thought there would be cheques there with my name on them.

He was right.

I wasn’t so honest after all.

I traveled east by train.

Dennis Mantin